


Until the End

by katieh28



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Cancer, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: Ander and Omar, in the quiet moments, when getting out of bed is getting hard and things are no longer pretty and fun and easy. Through it all, through all of the ugliness and pain, Omar is there for him.
Relationships: Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana
Comments: 14
Kudos: 262





	1. Chapter 1

"Ander." 

Omar shook his shoulder gently from the space next to him in bed, his voice barely a whisper. Omar had woken up in the middle of the night to Ander moving restlessly under the sheets, mumbling unintelligible words, kicking him weakly under the covers. He had been able to fall back asleep briefly once Ander quieted down, only to wake up a few moments later to the sight of his boyfriend sitting upright in bed, shoulders shaking, head in his hands. 

"Ander," he said again, even more gently this time. "What is it?" 

Ander stopped shaking for a moment, his whole body going stiff. "Go back to sleep, Omar," he said, his speech muffled. His face was still hidden by his hands. 

Omar lied back down in bed, but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes or turn away as he was instructed to. 

Omar watched as Ander remained frozen, hunched over the side of the bed, and he suddenly felt incredibly small, helpless. They were right next to each other, sleeping in the same bed, and yet he was worlds away, wasn't he? 

Omar was broken out of his thoughts as he heard a small, pained noise escape Ander's lips. Before he could think it through, to rationalize with himself that Ander probably needed space, he was on his knees in front of him at the end of the bed. 

"Ander," he repeated, " _you're in pain_." His voice cracked on the last words, and he hoped Ander wouldn't hear the fear in them. 

"I'm fine," Ander said, finally looking at him. His honey brown eyes were glazed over, glistening with tears, and yet his mouth was a hard line, his jaw fixed. 

Omar knew it was a lie, could see in the way his eyes were scrunched up in pain, shining with unshed tears. He gave him a sad smile. "Okay, tough guy."

Ander tried to look away from him then, his eyes darting to the floor, but Omar continued to look right at him, all of his focus on Ander and only Ander. Ander held all of his attention, all of his heart, and when a single tear finally slipped down his cheek, Omar didn't hesitate to reach up and brush it away gently with his thumb. 

Ander finally brought his gaze back to Omar then, and what Omar saw broke his heart- Ander's eyes had always been a window into his soul, what he was truly feeling, even when everything else about him was so rigid, so intent on hiding his vulnerabilities. Even when he refused to tell Omar how he was feeling, refused anything beyond a fake smile and an insistence that he was fine, Omar could see it all through his eyes. Right now, all he could see was pain, fear, tears he could no longer hold back. The dark circles under his eyes stood out against his pale skin, and Omar's heart ached at how small he looked. 

"Talk to me," Omar pleaded, brushing another stray tear with his thumb. "Tell me what's wrong." 

Ander leaned into his hand then, resting his cheek against Omar's palm, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

"It's nothing," he said, voice raspy. "It's just my stomach. It's...off." 

Omar felt more wetness against him, hot tears leaking into the palm of his hand. 

"Omar," his voice was weak, as though it was an effort just to speak. 

Omar felt him take a deep, shuttering breath, shaking with the effort of it. 

"I don't feel good." he said, his body going limp, his shoulders sinking. "I don't feel good." 

"I know, babe," Omar said, hoping Ander couldn't tell that his heart was breaking in his chest. He tried to keep his voice steady, but he was certain he was failing. 

"What can I do?" Omar asked, desperation evident in his voice. He grabbed onto Ander's hand tightly, hoping to convey everything he couldn't say with words- _I'm here, I'm not leaving, let me help you, please._

Omar leaned forward, and Ander buried his head into his chest, his chin digging into him, his curls brushing against Omar's neck. 

"Stay like this," Ander whispered. 

Omar nodded, holding Ander tightly against him. 

"-And maybe don't mention the whole crying all over your shirt thing tomorrow morning, or ever again." 

Omar laughed despite himself, it was so Ander to say such a thing while he was suffering, to care that Omar still saw him as strong, as perfect, even while he was in pain. 

"Don't worry, tough guy," Omar said. "Your secret is safe with me. Not that I'd ever think any less of you." 

Ander met his gaze then, his brown eyes still glassy, his expression uncertain. 

"Listen to me, Ander," Omar said, taking Ander's face in his hands. "You are the bravest person I've ever known. A few tears are not going to change my mind." 

At that, Ander collasped into him, grasping onto his shirt, burying his face into Omar's shoulder as he cried, his whole body shaking. 

It broke Omar's heart, but he was grateful for it. As he listened to Ander sniffling into his chest, his entire body heaving with the force of his sobs, he thanked Allah that Ander could still feel, could still bare his heart to him, could still let him in and let him love him. 

He needed to love him, to care for him, needed it like the air he breathed. Ander was his whole world, and if these were his last days, he wouldn't let Ander push him away, he wouldn't let Ander go numb or turn his heart to stone. And so as Ander's tears soaked through his shirt, as his thin shoulders shook with the effort, Omar was grateful. 

He was grateful to be here, to wipe his tears, to hold him close until the end.

Whether that would be tomorrow or in 80 years, he promised Allah. He would be there, even just to hold his hand as his eyes closed for the last time. 

He would be there. 

Always. 


	2. Chapter 2

At times like these, Ander could only stare at Omar's hands. 

It would have been easier to keep his eyes glued to the pill bottles, 5 of them in total, pills for his treatment and pills for his nausea and pills for his pain. He had grown to loathe the sounds of his medications rattling around in their little orange bottles. The only thing he loathed more was watching Omar sort each of the pills into a pill dispenser, labelled by day of the week, a constant reminder that he needed to drug himself all day every day just to function, just to survive. The only other person he knew who needed to use a pill dispenser was his 88 year old grandmother, and at this point he was probably even more doped up than she was. 

Ander used to watch Omar sort the array of tiny white pills into his pill dispenser every night and feel himself age by the second, feel the life drain out of him with every shake of his medication bottle. 

And so instead of noticing the dispenser fill with pills, Ander watched Omar's hands. 

Ander watched as Omar's rough, calloused hands wrapped around the cap of a pill bottle and twisted, and Ander watched his muscles flex with the effort of opening the cap. He noticed the hair raised on his arms from the cold, the skin on his forearms darker than the rest of him. He watched his strong hands continue to work on the bottles, prying them loose, and he watched the surprisingly delicate tips of his fingers. He could practically feel the warmth of Omar's hands from his position across the room from him- Omar's hands were always warmer than his. 

Ander continued to stare at Omar's hands, and at some point he must have noticed, taking a pause to turn toward Ander, his expression concerned. 

"Ander- are you okay?" 

Ander only bit his lip, watching the way Omar's brown eyes burned into his, his eyes always so clear, so dark, so intensely focused on him. 

"Do you need something?" 

Ander cleared his throat. His gaze fell from Omar's eyes to his lips, and despite the obvious concern in Omar's voice, Ander swore he could see a hint of that dazzling smile-That smile that drew Ander to him in the first place, made him weak in the knees. 

"You, Omar." 

" _What?"_

Ander inhaled, suddenly feeling breathless. "I need you, Omar," he said. 

Omar paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Now? We- we can't." 

"Why not?" Ander asked, suddenly angry, his cheeks burning. He cleared his throat again, missing the voice he had before cancer and chemo weakened him. He remembered when just the sound of his voice in Omar's ear was enough to turn him on. Now Ander's voice was raspy and weak from the treatments, and Omar didn't touch him the way he used to. 

"Isn't your mom home?" Omar asked. 

"That never stopped you before." 

Omar sighed, leaning tiredly against Ander's desk. Ander noticed for the first time that night the dark circles under Omar's eyes, and he was filled with anger that they didn't used to be there, and they wouldn't be there at all if Omar wasn't stuck with him here, taking care of him day and night. 

"You don't want me." It was more accusing than Ander had intended it, and he prepared for Omar's rage. Instead, his brown eyes softened. 

"That's not true, Ander," he said softly. "I want you more than ever." 

"Right," Ander said sarcastically. 

"It's true." 

"Then prove it. Show me." 

Ander walked over to him then, putting his arms around Omar's waist, his forehead against his. He looked into Omar's eyes and saw the storm of emotions there- fear, hesitance, absolutely, but also desire. It was true- he wanted him. He could see the fire in Omar's eyes burning just as brightly as the day he met him. 

"You're holding back, but you don't need to," Ander said, his hand moving dangerously low. "I want this. I'm not afraid." 

"I know," Omar said, inhaling deeply before he spoke. "But I am. I'm scared- the chemo, I know you don't like to admit it, but you're vulnerable right now. I don't want to hurt you." 

Ander's cheeks burned again, his grip around Omar's waist tightening. "You're not going to break me." 

Omar looked into his eyes, his lips drawing closer, and Ander could practically taste the kiss, the heat of Omar's mouth on his. And then Omar pulled away, his eyes closed, his expression pained. 

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you."

Ander knew what he was seeing in that moment, this new Ander, the one that was too pale and too thin and always tired. He was seeing the Ander that needed help walking up the stairs when he was too fatigued, the Ander that needed his pills sorted out for him every night because there were too damn many of them. Ander suddenly, desperately needed Omar to see the old Ander, the Ander he fell in love with. He needed Omar to look at him with something more than care and concern. He needed that fire in his eyes back, that constant burning, that mischievous grin. 

Without thinking, Ander pulled Omar in for a passionate kiss, his lips crashing into Omar's, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with need for the man in front of him. 

He broke away from the kiss then, taking a moment to stare into Omar's eyes, to make sure Omar could really see him. 

"Listen to me, Omar. I need you now, more than I've ever needed you. Whether I die today or in 100 years, you are the love of my life. _I need you_." 

And he did. He didn't just want him, he _needed_ him, needed those hands on him, those eyes staring into his soul. Now more than ever he needed to feel Omar inside him, he needed that fire inside of Omar to light him up. There was something about Omar, his intensity, his strength, that reminded him that he was still alive, even when he felt he was one foot in the grave already. Omar was the reason he was still alive, he knew that, not the pills or radiation or chemotherapy. Omar was more than his rock, his heart- he was everything. 

A moment passed and suddenly Omar was bridging the gap between them, pulling Ander's chest against his, his lips pressing feverish kisses into his neck, sending chills up Ander's spine. Slowly he undressed him, taking his time with his shirt, slow kisses all the way down his torso making him shiver, and Ander felt that feeling he hadn't felt in so long, he felt alive. 

Omar was quick to move them to the bed, gently guiding Ander onto the mattress behind them, and Ander's body burned from the heat of Omar on top of him. 

Omar laid them back on the bed and held Ander's face in his hands as he kissed him deeply, his lips feeling incredible against Ander's own. 

Once they finally broke away from the kiss, dizzy and breathless, Ander leaned back to look into Omar's eyes, and what he saw there almost brought tears to his eyes. It was all there, the love, the passion. Omar was seeing him for his old self, who he truly was before the chemo and the cancer. Omar was seeing beyond the pills and the treatments- he was seeing _him_. 

"Omar, I want this, you, now. I'm ready." 

Omar paused for a moment, cupping Ander's face in his palm, gently stroking his cheek. "You're sure?" 

"I've never been more sure of anything." 

"You'll tell me if I'm hurting you?" Omar asked, pressing a kiss to Ander's chest. 

Ander simply laughed to himself, a genuine laugh, flashing Omar a playful grin. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried, babe." 

"I'm serious Ander," Omar said, stopping suddenly, giving him a look of care so intense that Ander swallowed his next round of teasing remarks, biting his tongue. "I need to know that the second you want to stop, the second you need to- I need to know that you'll be honest with me. I'd rather die than cause you pain." 

Ander couldn't hold back the tears that sprung to his eyes then. 

The realization hit him instantly, taking his breath away- Omar wasn't treating him this way, like he was breakable, because he pitied him, wasn't attracted to him anymore. Omar was treating him not like he was glass, but like he was gold- too valuable to handle with anything other than all of his care, all of his love. 

Ander nodded at him then, smiling through tears. 

"I love you," he whispered, burying his face into Omar's neck, taking in all of his scent, his skin. 

He repeated the phrase again and again as Omar pressed into him, slowly, with all of the care he'd promised, and it was like lightening struck his chest and sent sparks through his heart. Omar was and always had been electric to him, igniting everything Ander had buried within himself for so long, and suddenly he could feel again, the entirety of his body and his being lit up from within.

"I love you," he whispered once more. 

Omar looked down at him, smiling as though Ander was the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, and Ander, for the first time, was speechless. 

"Forever, mi vida." Omar whispered. "Hasta el fin." 

"Until the end?" 

"Until the end of time." 


End file.
